The Chill

Remus woke up alone. It was familiar for him, to be sure, but he was always surprised by how cold he felt the morning after, covered in sweat and naked as the day he was born.

He sat up slowly, wincing as the muscles pulled and pinched. He felt raw, flayed and stripped down to his very bones, and he knew that it was only going to get worse before it got better. He was happy he had to good sense to lay in a change of clothes before he transformed, but at the moment he could only muster enough energy to reach to the side and pull on his robe.

It wouldn't do anything to stave off the cold – nothing would for the next few days – but it would at least protect him from the howling crosswind currently cutting through the Shrieking Shack like knife. It swayed around him, the walls groaning under the pressure from the wind and the frost outside. It was aptly named and Remus had zero doubt that his recent residency only added to its haunted reputation.

When Professor Dumbledore first showed him to the Shack, Remus thought he must surely be joking. But he would take a joke of a place to ride out the worst of his transformation rather than the alternative of having to go home. A poke to the Whomping Willow, a trip down a dark, earthen passage, and scrambling through the floorboards, and Remus found himself sitting in the middle of the abandoned cabin once a month like clockwork. So far no one had noticed, but Remus highly doubted it would stay that way.

His new friends - a word brought a flush a warmth to his chest just thinking of it - were far smarter than even they knew.

If they didn't figure it out on their own, the hints that he kept trying to leave certainly would get them the rest of the way.

He wouldn't exactly say he had been subtle so far and it was only a matter of time.

If his parents knew he was having those thoughts, they might not ever let him leave the house again. His mother had toyed with the idea of homeschool before and he had very little doubt that she would make good on her threat with even the slightest hint of provocation. He considered himself to be odd now –werewolf transformations and collection of native bugs of the Isles aside – and he held onto very little hope for himself if his already small world were to become even smaller.

So he continued to bury the desire to tell his friends outright.

To be seen.

To speak freely of his condition and not fear the sort of retribution his mother and father always told him was sure to come.

Remus rubbed his hand over his face, grimacing at the sweat and dirt as he slumped over at the waist. He shivered harder, the pull on his aching muscles even more painful as he tried, and failed, to fight off the cold. He would have to return to the castle soon, before his too smart friends noticed the pattern of his absences, but at the moment all he could muster was a few grunts as he tried to heave himself off the ground just a little bit further.

He ended up on hands and knees, breathing deeply as the exertion became too much.

He allowed himself a few more moments of exhaustion before he finally hauled himself to his feet and wobbled to the path back to Hogwarts. It felt so much longer now – on the tail end of a transformation that left him feeling foggy and out of sorts – and he counted the journey in what seemed to be hours instead of minutes.

At this point in the transformation, all he wanted was something warm in his belly and a pile of blankets six deep. It wasn't likely to do much to get rid of the unimaginable cold, but it would maybe stop the shivering long enough for him to sleep off the rest of his aches and pains.

He was lucky that most of the castle was already in bed at this time of night, so he ran into very little resistance as he stumbled his way back to the Hufflepuff dormitory.

He practically flung himself down in front of the crackling hearth, pressing in as close as humanly possible without curling up in the burning embers and calling it a night. His appreciation for the fire went almost entirely unnoticed by his housemates until he felt a small foot nudge his side. When he didn't immediately turn to look, too enthralled with the only thing that had cut through chill in his bones all night to pay them any mind.

But then, a mug of sweet hot chocolate was shoved under his nose.

"Hello, Rem," Mavis said, nudging him with her foot again to get him to move a little to the left. He reached out and took the offered mug and shuffled to the side, hiding his surprise when she plopped next to him, thigh to thigh, behind a big swig of hot chocolate.

It burned his tongue, but he gladly welcomed the feeling in lieu of the alternative.

She lifted her own mug and took a slurping sip, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as he did the same again.

"Feeling better?"

There was a sparkle to her gaze and for a brief moment – one glorious moment that Remus left himself get far too excited about – he thought she might just know his secret. She turned back to the fire and took another sip, smacking her lips in a dramatic fashion that caused Remus to smile.

"I am," He said, sipping his own drink far more quietly. The heat burned the back of his throat, but he welcoming the break from the biting cold, if even for only a few minutes. "Just a bit of a stomach bug. Nothing serious."

She turned back to look at him again, eyebrows furrowed. "You were sick last month too."

Again, his stomach turned at the very idea of her putting two and two together.

He practically willed it into her mind, begging and pleading all at once for her to figure it out on her own so he wouldn't break the promise he made to his parents.

But then she turned away and the moment was lost.

"Was I? I don't remember."

She made a noise at the back of her throat, but said nothing, choosing instead to down the rest of her drink in one long, prolonged slurp. She set aside her mug with a loud clink and turned to look at him again, large eyes practically boring into him. Her gaze swept over his pallid face, his sweat clumped hair, and disheveled clothes, and it was the wonder of all wonders that she continued to believe it was only a stomach bug.

Mavis leaned in close, eyes narrowing as she continued to observe him.

Remus stopped breathing, using every ounce of muscle control he had to avoid the great and terrible need to shiver.

"I need to check on an owl. Come with me?"

"What?"

"James mentioned earlier that he might meet me in owlry. Do you want to come?"

Taking the slightest nod, which very well might have been a muscle spasm, as a yes, she gestured for him to finish off the rest of his hot chocolate. When he was finished, she took the mug from his hand and practically dragged him to his feet as she pulled him out of the dorm and back into the oppressive chill of the castle. He refused to let his aches and pains and the unrelenting cold keep him cooped up inside however, so he pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders and pulled a pair of gloves out of his pocket as he followed her through the castle and back outside.

"Some fresh air might do you good," She said, the same spark in her eyes.

Remus couldn't share the palpable irony with her, but he did nod and smile at her when she looped her arm through his and walked faster. She was a very physically affection person, he had come to discover rather quickly, and he finally managed to stop twitching when she made skin to skin contact without warning.

They settled into easy conversation, jumping around from topic to topic as they walked down the slopping castle lawn.

Their near nightly trips to the owlry had become almost routine. He thought that her affinity for owls was nothing more than a character quirk that she didn't want to let go of when she came to school. But he very quickly discovered that what seemed to a hobby was actually a family business.

Remus knew the Fawleys were rich.

He had no idea they were owning Eeylops – Owl – Emporium – and – breeding – every – owl – in – the – western – hemisphere – rich.

How he had managed to find himself smack dab in the middle of some of the richest wizarding families in all of Britain, Remus would never know, but he was thankful that Mavis and James seemed morally opposed at their basest level to showing their wealth off. But he could tell from the finery of their robes, custom made to their exact size and not off the rack like most of their classmates, the expensive leather of their shoes, and the way they seemed very unbothered whenever one of their quills split.

Mavis pulled her arm back when the owlry came into sight and sprinted up the steps, chirping like a loon as she rushed through the doors. The owls responded immediately, and by the time Remus made it inside behind her, they fluttered around her head like a bunch of starlings.

At the center of the cavernous room, James Potter stood with his arms crossed and face sour, absolutely covered in owl droppings.

"Why do you always have to incite them?" James snapped, scowling at the back of Mavis' head as she continued to greet the flock of owls with excited coos. A few made themselves comfortable on her shoulders, pecking at her hair and snuffling around in the folds of her robes for little treats.

"I don't want them to think I'm not happy to see them, Jim."

Remus leaned back against the wall and dropped his head into his hands, the exhaustion taking over once again for just a moment.

He should have said no.

He should have crawled into bed and slept off the rest of the pain.

But his most stubborn tendencies refused to let him miss out on this time. So he didn't, and now he was listening to James and Mavis bicker back and forth like an old married couple covered in owl shite, chilled to his very core, and not regretting his decision for a single moment.

"You told them to do that."

"I did not!"

"You did. You –" James mimicked the chirping sound Mavis made. "- and then they just started swarming, assholes locked in like a bunch of snipers!"

Remus didn't consider he and James to be particularly close just yet, but he did know him well enough to have gleaned that he had an almost unnatural love of muggle action movies.

"Maybe there's something about you that inspires that sort of greeting." There was something in Mavis' voice that caught Remus' attention. He pulled his head out of his hands and looked at her, smiling when he saw the look she was giving him out of the corner of her eye. She put on an offended front, but the amusement in her eyes let Remus know that James was not entirely wrong in his assessment of what happened.

When she caught Remus looking, she raised her eyebrows and turned her attention back to the owls on her shoulders, biting her lip to keep from smiling too widely.

James scowled at her and pulled out his wand.

"Scourgify!"

A great rushing wind surrounded James, disrupting his robes and messing up his already wild hair. When the magic settled, not a single bit of owl poo had been removed.

Remus covered his mouth to hide his laugh.

"There's a reason that charm is for fourth year," Mavis said, not bothering with her faux sympathy any more. "Anyway, I'm glad you made it."

"I was getting claustrophobic." James said, giving up on his soiled robes for the time being. He dropped down to sit next to Remus. "Cheers, Rem." Remus made a noise at the back of her throat, covering up he palpable and frankly embarrassing joy at how easily James addressed him by a nickname. "The company in the dorm is less than desirable."

He supposed it was the privileged side of James that made him feel that way, but Remus would never have been so picky. Potentially sociopathic or not, Slytherin friends were better than no friends and Remus had spent far too many years of his life with only his parents for friendship to be so unnecessarily discerning. Perhaps he was simply lucky. Odd though she may be, Mavis was hardly what one would call difficult or undesirable company.

"Do you have any letters to send?" She asked, tone pointed in such a way that Remus felt like he had definitely missed the deeper meaning to the question.

"I do."

"And."

"And? This letter could very well be the thing that causes my parents to disown me forever. This letter could mean I have to live on the street. I would have to sell all my chocolate frog cards just to make ends meet. I could get trafficked. Or murdered. Or asked to join a roaming band of street performers who have no concept of personal space and I'll have to say yes to avoid eating my shoes for dinner." As he continued to spiral he started to sound like he actually might believe it himself and Remus couldn't help but laugh.

"You think this is funny? You won't be laughing when I end up in St. Mungo's with some horrific shoe born illness."

"No," Remus started, although he was unable to keep the humor out of his voice. He covered up his most obvious laughter with a well-placed cough. The effect was minimal and all it did was make James scowl at him instead of Mavis and his muscles ache something awful. "Well, yes a little bit. It's November. You know people like to talk. They already know."

Remus didn't mean to come across as mocking or flippant, but he just couldn't help but find James' self-pity just the slightest bit misplaced. Certainly, he didn't know his parents, nor did he claim to have any understanding of the inner workings of the politics of high pureblood society.

But it all just seemed so superficial.

As far as parental disappointment was concerned, there were always worse things to be than a Slytherin.

Another shiver came over him and he pulled his robe tighter around his shoulders.

"See. Remus agrees with me," Mavis said, shooing away the birds on her arms as she crossed the small space. She wrapped her arms around James' shoulders, entirely oblivious to the mess, and gave him a great squeeze.

James pressed his face against her shoulder and let out a dramatic sigh, entirely unaware of the way her hand had started to run down his side. She distracted him by rubbing his back, but her intention became quite clear when her hand dipped inside his pocket.

"You'll thank this for me later."

She yanked the letter away from him.

"Hey!"

Mavis ran to the other side of the owlry, holding the letter out of reach of the much taller James. She bent down at the waist just as he leaned over her back, sending him flipping over her and sprawling onto the floor.

"This is your ingrown hair moment! You just have to yank!"

Remus laughed out loud, the ache in his muscles entirely forgotten, as he watched James flail sideways and latch onto her ankle. He pulled her leg upwards, upending her balance.

"Give it back, bird brain!"

Mavis crawled on her elbows, kicking one foot at James' face as he tried to pull her back towards him.

"No!"

"I'll tell your sister about what really happened to her Kauldron Keepers poster!"

He scrambled on top of her back and held her face down, scrubbing the back of her head until her hair was a knotted mess.

Remus laughed harder, eyes now streaming with tears as he watched them continue to wrestle.

"Horchata!" She called holding the letter above her head as James scrubbed harder. A milky white owl swooped down and snatched it from her hands before James could grab it from her. It flew out of the owlry, taking all possibility of getting the letter back with it.

Remus recognized the look of resignation on James' face.

He had worn it himself a thousand times over.

Every time they had to move.

Or after he destroyed another home.

Every time he caused his parents some sort of difficulty.

He had the same look.

But instead of it lingering, this time James managed to smile down at Mavis as she flipped over.

"You really are the worst."

He got off her and helped her to her feet, even going so far as to push the messy hair back from her face.

"Yes, but you were never going to do it yourself. And now, you can stop thinking about it. It's done. They know and the world hasn't come crashing down," She said, finishing the job of smoothing out her hair the rest of the way. "Now that that's out of the way, I'm starving. Remus, feeling peckish?"

Remus nodded, recognizing the first bit of hunger crawling its way back into his stomach. It was ahead of schedule by almost a day, but he didn't even allow himself to question it. Instead, he buttoned up his robe all the way and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

He was still cold.

Chilled to his very core, even, and more tired than should be possible.

But he knew it would only last so long and by the time he woke up the next morning he wouldn't even remember it.

Poor Remus, so desperate for them to know. Don't worry, though, they'll figure it out pretty quickly once he starts laying down all the clues. And by clues, I mean flashing neon signs lol.